Dean's Bus Trip
by Zelkina Blackheart
Summary: Dean misses his ride to the next show, so he does what everyone else does. Catches the bus. Cupid, on the other hand, has different ideas on how the bus ride will end. A one shot but part of the "How Unusual" Series. Please read "It's not cause she's my sister" for part two!


**Part One of the How Unusual series - Please see "It's not cause she's my sister" for part two! Enjoy, and don't forget to check out my other fictions!**

* * *

"There ya go kid. Enjoy." He smiled, handing back a now autographed picture of himself.

"Thanks Mister Ambrose!" he called back, as his parents dragged him away, scolding him for bothering the man in his own time.

"Think nothing of it, kid." The man replied, as his phone rang. The entrance music of The Shield filled the shelter. As he mused how he missed working with Roman and Seth on screen, he hurried to answer the phone. "City Morgue, you kill 'em we chill 'em" he answered with a smile.

"Dean Ambrose where the hell are you!" exclaimed a voice. Dean laughed. It was just like his brothers to get worried about him. He still regarded them as brothers, despite the current storyline.

"Well, right now, I'm at an Amtrak station, Mr. Reigns." He answered sarkily.

"You're still in the city? Oh for fucks sake Ambrose we're halfway to Orlando by now!" Privately, Dean doubted that. Too far to turn around, maybe, but not that far away.

"Roman. Don't worry, I've got my gear, I'll be at the arena tomorrow night. Don't sweat it." He said, trying to placate Roman, and in the background, Seth as both men launched in to a tirade. "Besides, it'll be fun." With a warning that they would expect him at the arena in Orlando the following day, Dean hung up. He smirked to himself as the bus drew in, and inwardly groaned as he saw the amount of people aboard. He hoped there was a space available.

The handy thing about this time of night, he decided, was everyone was too tired to take much notice of him as he walked towards the back of the bus. People kept their heads down, played with their phones, one or two did some writing on a notepad. Some were asleep, others looked on the verge of dropping off. He got to the back of the bus where a spare seat was available next to a girl. She paid him no mind as he approached, and Dean saw she had headphones in, as she worked on some small notebook laptop.

"S'cuse me, this seat taken?" he asked, groaning inwardly as he saw she wore one of his t-shirts. She looked up, locked her green eyes with his own, and gave him a smile, shaking her head and gesturing to take a seat. Time slowed a moment, his chest tightened all of a sudden and he felt like he'd been shot in the heart. "Thanks." Dean then shoved his bag in the overhead compartment, and settled down next to her, purposely not looking as he tried to marshal his thoughts on ignoring her and settling his nerves down. _What the hell happened there? No woman's made me feel like that with just a look!_ He pulled out his phone, and messaged Roman that he was safely on the bus. Then, he got comfy, and tried to at least catch a few hours sleep. It was a long way to Orlando.

* * *

Dean must have slept like a baby, as the next thing he knew the woman next to him was giving him a shake.

"Whassamatter?" he mumbled, sleepily as she stopped.

"Dude, pit stop in five. You need the toilet, now's the time," she said.

"Mmm…thanks…" he said, hauling himself up to a sitting position again. He checked his watch, it was half six. True to her word, they pulled in to a bus terminal barely five minutes later, the driver yelling they would be leaving in half an hour and would not wait for stragglers. Dean looked at his watch and rubbed his eyes. He needed coffee. Badly. He got up and meandered off the bus, heading for the toilets.

Once back on the bus, he felt a little more human. Not much, mind you, bus station coffee sucked. The girl was back on the bus already. He took note of the fact she'd changed, and now wore a cut off Roman Reigns t-shirt and black jeans. He found himself appreciating her toned body, she evidently worked out. A cough behind him brought him back to reality, and he reminded himself he couldn't get up to anything, not on the bus. Approaching his seat once more, she was already back at the laptop, fingers typing like a blur across the keyboard, headphones in, completely separate from the rest of the world. Dean put down his carrier bag full of junk and snacks in front of his seat. Long distances made him hungry, and he had no Roman or Seth to annoy, so he might as well play games on his phone and surf the net. He leant back, trying to get comfy as the girl worked, and found himself surreptitiously reading what she was writing. The laptop was angled away from him, she clearly didn't want him to read what she was doing. But leaning back, it was easy for him to read the screen. He quickly realized, as the bus began to drive off, that it was a fan fiction. And one that starred him, no less. He tried not to smile. Dean had indulged in the fandom before, but he'd written Harry Potter fan fiction. He'd read a few wrestling ones though. As she scrolled up to the top of her story to check something, he caught her pen name. He then decided to spend the next hour reading the fiction so far, and anything else she had written. Then he returned to slyly reading over her shoulder. It was just getting good when she typed out _"I have to tell you…it's killing me inside…DEAN STOP READING OVER MY GODDAMN SHOULDER!"_ Dean laughed aloud.

"I'm sorry…I was bored and I saw your pen name…so I looked you up…" he said as she pulled her headphones from her ears.

"Oh jeez…you looked me up? Why would you do that, knowing what I'm writing?" She gsped. "Wait, you read it all?" Dean nodded. "Even the scene in the…." She went red.

"Even that scene." He smiled, in his lazy, overconfident way. "Which, by the way, was pretty damn good." He shook his head to remove some of the curls from his forehead.

"Oh hell," she squirmed, trying to hide her embarrassed face. He laughed.

"I'm sure you know me by now, but just in case. Dean." He said, offering her his hand.

"Cora." She replied. Dean frowned at the sound of her voice.

"Where are you from? I can't place your accent," Dean asked.

"England." She replied as she pulled a breakfast drink from her bag. She eyed it with disgust, and Dean smiled to himself. Quick, easy and 9 out of 10 times, disgusting. He dug in his bag and pulled out a pack of ham and cheese slices.

"Want one?" he asked. "Yes, you. That thing doesn't look like it would taste much better than it looks." he said as she pointed to herself. Dean unwrapped it, and passed it to her. Cora bit a chunk out of it and made a sound that indicated it was really quite good. Dean's wandering mind wondered if _he_ could make her make that sound. He restrained himself, and asked something else instead. "Cora's a bit of an odd name, isn't it?"

"It's not my full name…that's even weirder." She said with a scowl suddenly dominating the features of the girl. Dean looked at her as she took another bite of the slice.

"Can't be that weird. I've heard some weird names in my time." He replied.

"It is." She said, her eyes now averted from his gaze. _I like those green eyes,_ Dean thought to himself.

"Cora, wasn't it?" She nodded, red cheeked. "Well Cora, I'm the Lunatic Fringe. Nothing you say will be weird to me. After all, I assaulted a mannequin live on TV, with a pair of tongs," he added. She smiled, and Dean felt his heart skip a beat. Mentally he blamed it on the coffee and the slice for breakfast as she gave up.

"Alright. Cora's short for Dracora. Dracora Ceridwen Sanguine. See, I told you it was weird." She said, rolling her eyes a little.

"Different. Interesting. Not weird." He corrected. She gave him a small smile. "So was it your mom or your dad who gave you the name?" There was a moments silence and hesitation as she debated giving him this much info about herself, Dean could tell. "My dad gave me mine. Mom wanted to call me something else…Thomas I think, or George. Dad wasn't having any of it."

"My mum gave me the name…she…um…was a bit touched in the head," she said delicately. Dean smothered the bark of laughter, Cora noticed and giggled. "Ok, more than that. She was mental. Like, locked up just after I was born mental. Dracora was because she had an obsession with dragons. She'd changed her surname to Sanguine years before…kept it when my parents married. Dad was the one who had her committed, but he just couldn't bring himself to change my name." she said. "Happy now?"

"For now." Dean gave her his cheeky grin, the one he reserved for playing tricks on Seth and Roman, and he saw her avert her eyes and swallow hard. There was silence for a while, as she finished her food, and tried to continue with her work. She couldn't focus, as her mind was clearly distracted. Dean had no doubts that she was mentally undressing him, and imagining unsavory situations in the back of the bus. Dean laughed to himself. He'd seen these reactions in many a fan, and many a woman he'd been with. But none intrigued him the way this one did.

"So. You write WWE fan fiction. How long have you been writing?" he asked. She reddened again. "Don't be embarrassed, I write a little now and then myself. Harry Potter mostly." Dean said. She looked at him in disbelief. "I do. I went under the name Aspiring Wolf." Disbelief again, and so Dean told her what website he'd posted on, and what section his fictions were under. Cora used her laptop and the buses wifi to check. Sure enough, a few fictions under his name were still active. Cora bookmarked the page for reading later on.

"So…um…what do you think?" she asked, nervously. Dean smiled, and didn't fail to notice her playing with a strand of her hair with nervous fingers.

"I liked it. It works well, there's a few things that I would say to change, if you wanted to, but the scene in the…

"You like that scene?" she asked. Dean nodded.

"I do. You got me perfectly. Every reaction, every word, the lot. Your OC…she's you, right?" Cue more red cheeks and averted gazes. "It's cool I write that way too. Write as me and then change to a different name once done." Dean said. He didn't know why, but he loved the fact he could make her blush with a few words, make her nervous around him. "So, where were you headed?"

"With the fiction? Or on the bus?" she asked. Dean thought for a moment.

"Both." He decided. She paused, hands over the keyboard.

"The fiction…I don't know, I was looking towards having a few awkward meetings between the pair after that, before they admitted they liked each other. Really awkward "I like you, you like me, but you don't know I like you" stuff." She said.

"What about you?" Dean asked. Again she looked elsewhere, averting her gaze, although Dean didn't think he'd done anything to cause it. This time, at least.

"I'm headed to Orlando…to the Performance Center." She said. Dean raised an eyebrow, and she took a breath and continued. "I have a try out this afternoon."

"Oh, so you wrestle?" he asked. She nodded. "You weren't going to say anything, were you?" he voiced, and was rewarded with a shake of the head, her black hair falling off her shoulder as she did so. Dean dug his phone out of his pocket, and turned on the camera, before putting his arm around her.

"Wha…what are you doing?" she stammered, as she saw their faces in his phones screen.

"Taking a picture. I want to remember you when you hit the main roster." Dean said simply, and adjusted himself so he was closer to her.

"Do I get a copy?" she asked, her green eyes suddenly sparkling. Dean smiled back at her before leaning against her.

"Of course. I'll send it to you right after we take it. Say Unstable!" He said. He could smell the perfume on her neck, feel the touch of her skin on his as they sat, cheek to cheek for the picture. His muscles tightened, his nerves went haywire, registering the fact he was somehow attracted to this girl, above so many others, and he knew so little about her. Next thing he knew, she'd turned her head to talk to him, the single movement brought her in close with him and as he went to say something too, her lips brushed his ever so lightly. Rather than red, she went pale, her eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, before two black nailed hands clamped to her mouth. Dean was taken aback himself, he hadn't realized they were that close.

"Sorry..I didn't mean to…" Dean faltered, and checked himself. "I'm sorry, I'm not that kinda guy usually…" He said, throwing in his cheeky grin. _At least, I don't want to be with you,_ he added mentally.

"No, I'm sorry…oh jeeze..I…I thought you'd turned away, I thought you'd moved…I'm really not like that…" she spluttered. Now she was red.

"Anyone ever tell you, you blush too easily?" he asked, trying to change the subject. Cora nodded, and mumbled that she was well aware. "Gonna need to toughen up a bit once you get that shot Hun, you get embarrassed too easy, you'll never get that much TV time." He added. He could see Cora thinking over his words as her hands played with the hem of her t-shirt. Silence once again, and Dean decided to try another tactic. "Your one shot…Ringside Seat? Why was it only a one shot? You had so much potential for a three parter at least."

"Ringside? Oh…well…I wanted to do a second view, with his point of view instead…but I didn't trust anyone enough to ask without ruining it." She said, as Dean sent her the picture he'd taken via Bluetooth. He also made a bookmark of her fictions on his web browser, for him to check out later.

"Shame. I can totally see his point of view, at least, how I'd do it." Dean replied.

"You have an unfair advantage…you are the character." Cora managed as Dean offered her a can of soda.

* * *

The next hour was spent un-intentionally brainstorming a response, and at some point Dean ended up with the laptop in his lap, and Cora leaning on the arm rest between them. He enjoyed her company as a response began to form on the laptop in front of him. It had been a while since he'd done any writing, but he was enjoying himself. At some point, she had to have dozed off, as her hand slipped off the arm rest on to his lap. He looked over to see she was asleep, her head tilted gently to the one side, a gentle smile on her face as she slept. Dean smiled. _She's even beautiful asleep,_ he thought to himself. He let her be, and continued writing.

He has finished what he thought was an acceptable response, and saved it, when there was a loud bang. Cora woke up, startled, Dean instinctively covered her, thinking the worst. The bus lurched to one side, as the driver fought to slow it down and stop it.

"Sorry folks, looks like we got a burst tire. We'll be here for a little while till I can get the spare sorted. Everyone off the bus for now please." Came the driver's voice over the intercom. Dean sat up again slowly, trying to calm down, his heart was racing.

"You ok?" he asked. She nodded, running a hand through her hair. "I…sorry, I thought…"

"You thought it was a gunshot?" she asked. Dean nodded.

"I tend to think the worst…a lot. I heard a loud noise, it sounded like a gunshot, so I thought it was."

"And your first thought was to protect me?" Cora looked at him with wondering eyes.

"Well…you do have your shot this afternoon." He said as he stood up, and straightened himself out. He offered her a hand and when she took it, pulled her up also. There was a moment of silence between them, neither could look each other in the eye. They began to walk down the aisle to get off the bus.

"How long to change a spare tire, do you think?" she asked.

"Bout an hour, max. When's your tryout?" Dean asked as they walked off the bus. Her looked back to see her frowning as she stepped down from the bus on to the grass at the side of the road.

"Four thirty. Bus got in to Orlando at 2.45…I'm not going to make it, am I?" she said, realizing. "I've come all the way from New York, halfway through a holiday, to do this…and I won't make it." She sat down on the grass, and Dean watched as she put her head in her hands.

"We will figure out something, don't worry."

"This was my one shot, Dean. A name as unusual as mine will be easy to remember if I tried again, and they would remember me as the girl who was late…I might as well head back to New York as soon as we get there." She looked up at him as her eyes began to brim with tears. Dean felt an odd, crushing sensation in his chest…he realized his heart was aching for her. He wanted to help her. He dug in his pockets and pulled out his phone, stepping away from her and telling her he'd be right back. He tapped the screen a few times, and pulled up the number he needed. Dean smiled and pressed the call button.

"Hello Ambrose. You're alive at least," Roman's voice sounded with a tinge of a smile to it.

"Hello to you too, Roman. Listen. I need your help." Dean said. "You see, I met this girl on the bus…"

"You are not using my hotel room for a place to have your fun," Roman said.

"Stop being a dick, I'm not asking for that. Shut up and listen will you?" Dean said, exasperated.

"Alright, all right. Spill. What's gotten you in such a mess?" Roman asked, and listened as Dean explained his problem.

An hour later, they were back on the bus, and as each mile passed, Cora got more and more upset.

"It's ok, you know. You'll make it." Dean advised, with a smile.

"No, I won't. I'll never get across town in that time." She said, shaking her head. Dean pulled his phone from his pocket, and dialed a number.

"Hi William, it's Dean Ambrose! Hey, how are you doing? Listen, I got a favor to ask. See I'm halfway to Orlando on an Amtrak, which just got a burst tire….yeah, I know, scared the shit outta me. Thought it was a gunshot, y'know? Anyways. I'm on the bus now, and I've been riding with this bombshell of a Brit, who's come all the way from New York on holiday to try out today. Black hair, green eyes. Oh she's hot, Will, wouldn't say it if I didn't believe it." Dean winked at a mortified Cora, as she tried to hide her head in her hands. "Thing is, she's got a try out at the performance centre at half 4. Yeah, I know, she said she wasn't gonna make it, we lost an hour cause of the tire blow out, y'know? Think you could push it back an hour or so? Mr. Regal, I owe you one…ok several." Dean paused and listened to something William said. "Uh huh, no problem. She'll see you when she gets there." Dean said his thanks as Cora shook her head.

"What on earth did you do that for?" she asked. "You didn't have to, and you know it, you could have just let me be late…"Dean just dug in the now depleted bag for one final chocolate bar. He unwrapped it slowly as he spoke.

"Because I could. Everyone deserves a shot, Cora." He snapped the bar in half.

"A shot at what?" She reached for the half of the bar that was being offered.

"Whatever their heart desires." He said, as her fingers brushed his when taking the chocolate from him. Her eyes met his as he on purpose flexed a finger so it trailed down her hand as she pulled it away. His finger hooked one of hers a moment, before letting go.

"_Whatever_ it desires?" she asked, taking a breath. Dean could feel the air between them thicken with…something…he couldn't quite describe it.

"Yeah," Dean said, as she raised the chocolate to her lips and bit in to it. _How is it, you've totally captured me? I don't even know you, but oh my god, I want to. I want to see you again, I want to hold you, to embrace you, to kiss you…and I think you know it too,_ he thought to himself. "All you have to do is take the chance."

* * *

The moment the bus pulled up in the station, Dean had Cora on her feet. He rushed them both off the bus, and spotted Roman in his sleek black sports car. Seth sat in the passenger seat, shades down, enjoying the rare rays of winter sun.

"There's our ride, Cora." He pointed, and then grabbed her by the hand. Dean felt a lurch in his stomach as he did so. She recoiled instantly, pulling her hand from his. "Sorry, did I touch a nerve?"

"No…uh…static shock," she said, but Dean knew it was a flimsy defense. He couldn't explain how he knew either…he just knew. Roman got out as Dean and Cora rushed over, opening the door for her. Seth lifted his sunglasses as they approached, watching the pair till they drew level. Dean knew that look all too well, he got the "I should have known" smirk almost daily.

"Nice shirt," Roman said,, with a wicket smirk of his own. She laughed, shaking her head as she slipped in to the back seat, and Dean not so elegantly vaulted over the side of the car.

"To the performance centre, Jeeves!" He said, his voice a little muffled as he suddenly found himself with Cora's bag dumped in his lap.

The ride to the centre was silent, the girl was more than nervous, she was terrified. Pulling in to the car park, Dean, to Seth and Roman's surprise, was first out the car, walking round to let Cora out. She got out, and Dean saw she was visibly shaking as she took in the building in front of her.

"You ok?" he asked.

"I'm scared. What if I screw up?" she said.

"You won't." He said.

"Well, this is it. Wish me luck. I'll see you in a year on the main roster," She said, her voice shaking a bit with nerves. She went to walk off, but Dean couldn't let her go just yet, he reached out, grabbed her by the hand and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her before kissing her passionately. Amused, Roman and Seth gave each other "I knew it" looks, Roman laughing and shaking his head, before Dean let her go. She stood in his arms, breathless, and stunned.

"That time, it wasn't an accident. Go get them, Dracora." He said, before letting her go. She nodded and smiled, hands slowly pulling from his, before she turned and walked inside. There was a moment's silence, before Dean snapped out of the trance he was in, watching the door. A hand came on his shoulder, and he turned to see Roman next to him, and Seth the other.

"So someone finally bit you, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah. Finally." Dean replied. Seth lifted his shades and looked at his brother.

"So…you totally got her number, right?"

"Uhhhh…."

"Because you want to see her again, clearly. You did get her number, right?" Roman asked.

"Well…I…" Dean floundered.

"No, he didn't." Seth filled in. "Dean just met the woman of his dreams, and didn't get her number."


End file.
